Sunday clothes. The brown pants hung in the closet and pulled out for church, weddings, funerals, and any other event deemed “official” by your mom. At the age of 14 of so, you start imposing your own Sunday clothes dress code on yourself, deciding the face you want to prepare for the prepared faces you’ll meet. About the time you have to start interviewing for jobs, meeting landlords, seeing parole officers, etc. you pretty much have your Sunday clothes figured out, and, if you’re like me, you have that one nice outfit that you wear to any generic “I’m trying to convince you I’m not a total sleezeball” event. An outfit skillfully crafted from geeky articles of clothing acquired over the last 5 Christmases.
Everytime I put it on, it’s pretty obvious to me how fake it looks. Add in the fact that I never really learned to comb my hair, and I end up looking like a support cast member from “Revenge of the Nerds”, or like a finalist in the National Science Project Awards. All of this is fine to me, as I’m not so much trying to impress my target with suaveness, just trying to cover up the fact that I only wear underwear on special occasions, consider showering a frivolity, and have an entire wardrobe based on camouflage and the Cleveland Browns.
I write this now as I prepare to go meet a landlord about a new apartment. The landlord/tenet relationship is a difficult one, made easier when both parties are relatively nice, good natured people. As this is rarely the case, I don my Sunday clothes, practice my “I’m a well-paid computer programmer” lie, and try not to let on to the fact that I’ve been kicked out of more apartments than Chuck Bukowski and Sean Penn combined (getting an apartment with a full grown Rotweiler is about as easy as hiding one from your landlord). Wish me luck, I’ll let you know how it goes.
And yes, I’m back in town. I have so much crap to write about, it’s gonna take me a week or so to sort through this Swiss cheese of a brain of mine to sort it out (in addition to the 511 emails I had waiting for me this morning). Stay posted. I got some pretty good stories to tell.